


Worth a try

by linndechir



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Father/Son Incest, M/M, PWP, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:18:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linndechir/pseuds/linndechir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herc's life would be so much easier if Chuck just <i>told</i> him he wanted a spanking instead of being a brat all day. Still, he's happy to oblige once he catches on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth a try

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this [kinkmeme prompt](http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/2747.html?thread=3290043#t3290043).

There were days when his son was a real pain in the arse. Chuck was always a handful, cocky and mouthy and moody, but Herc could deal with that. It wasn't as if Herc was always an easy person to be around. But sometimes Chuck was simply an annoying little shit for no apparent reason, and today was one of those days.

They had spent the morning in the gym and the afternoon in the kwoon, and Herc had stopped counting the times Chuck had called him “old man” that day, the smartass comments about how Herc was getting old and slowing down, when they both knew the only reason Herc was taking it easy was that his left shoulder was still sore and aching from their last battle. So when they got back to their quarters, Herc simply tried to ignore his son and go to the bathroom, but Chuck blocked his way, mirroring Herc's movements when Herc tried to step past him. Herc's pent-up frustration was quickly turning into anger. Chuck wasn't 16 anymore, he had no excuse anymore for taking out his bad mood on others, and Herc was too tired to put up with this shit right now. So he squared his shoulders, folded his arms and stared back.

“Is there any particular reason you're being such a brat today?” 

To his surprise Chuck didn't snap back at him. If anything he looked rather happy that Herc had finally commented on his behaviour. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, licked his lips, glanced down and then back at Herc. Herc would have expected a far more belligerent reaction, but Chuck just looked like he had something to say and didn't quite know how to put it.

“You know, dad,” and he licked his lips again, “you always say I'm such a brat and that I have no manners, but for all that you never … you've never just put me over your knee.”

Herc's frown deepened. He had been rough on more than one occasion with Chuck over the years, especially once they had started working together, but he had never really believed in hitting kids. After all, his own father had slapped and spanked him and Scott often enough, and it hadn't improved their manners one bit. 

“I doubt it would have helped,” Herc said carefully. And then he realised then that Chuck was slowly blushing, that there was something both embarrassed and excited about the look on his face. Chuck wasn't meeting his eyes now, and his shoulders had slumped a little. All day he had looked like he wanted nothing more than a fight, but now his entire body posture signalled surrender.

“Might be worth a try, no?” he mumbled. Herc raised both eyebrows in surprise. That's what this had all been about? 

“You _want_ me to … what, spank you?”

Chuck's cheeks turned from pink to red. Herc hadn't really seen this one coming, but it wasn't the first time Chuck had surprised him with some fantasy of his, and the boy had always been absolutely terrible at asking Herc for anything he wanted. The prospect of having Chuck spread out like that over his lap – when he had half expected that his son would be far too moody to come to his bed that night – immediately improved his temper, even made him feel rather forgiving about Chuck's behaviour all day. Herc stepped closer, and this time Chuck let Herc crowd him against the wall, his head still bowed in the kind of quiet submission Herc only ever got from him when they had sex.

“I'm waiting,” he said quietly when Chuck just kept staring down at Herc's chest.

“Yes.” Chuck's voice was breathless already, his hands were twitching at his sides. Herc smiled.

“My hand?”

Chuck nodded. Herc stepped closer still, trapping Chuck's body between himself and the wall, and put one hand on Chuck's hip. 

“Yes,” Chuck said, his breath hitching a little when Herc's hand slid to his arse.

“Only my hand?”

Chuck's eyes were filled with surprise when he looked up, and Herc already expected his son to call him a kinky bastard (Chuck did that a lot, even though quite a few of their experiments had been his idea, not Herc's), but instead Chuck just squirmed a little.

“I don't know,” he answered honestly.

“Christ, boy, you could have just said something instead of pissing me off all day,” Herc grumbled, but he knew it was pointless. Just saying what they wanted wasn't the way they did things. Chuck grinned a little.

“Don't think it would be so much fun if you weren't actually pissed off.” Chuck couldn't hold still now, rubbed that pretty arse of his against Herc's hand. “C'mon, old man, it's just your left shoulder that's sore, right? Or are you too tired after trying to keep up with me all day?”

His voice was softer now, or maybe it just sounded softer to Herc now that he knew that those words were nothing but a cheap attempt at provoking him. Still, he was more than willing to play along.

“Shut up, boy,” he snarled, letting his voice take that particular tone he reserved for situations just like this one, when Chuck all but begged him to get rough. He stepped back and smirked a little at the needy noise Chuck made in the back of his throat, then walked over to his bed to sit down on it. 

“Come over here.” And Chuck obeyed eagerly, flushed and smiling in anticipation as he hurried over to Herc. Herc looked him up and down, marvelled not for the first time at how beautiful Chuck was. How lucky he was that Chuck wanted him as much as Herc wanted Chuck, that they were as compatible in bed as they were in a Jaeger, that giving in to this fucked up desire hadn't somehow ruined everything between them.

“Drop 'em,” Herc ordered with a nod, and Chuck had the good sense not to play dumb, but simply unbuckled his belt and pushed his trousers down. He wanted to step out of them, but Herc stopped him with a click of his tongue. “Didn't tell you to take them off.”

Herc patted his own thigh, and damn if that perpetual blush on Chuck's face wasn't getting him hard already. Chuck must have expected Herc to manhandle him – Herc did that often enough, after all – and having to follow orders instead with his trousers around his knees and his half-hard dick out made him beautifully embarrassed. Chuck's movements were a little awkward when he knelt down and bent his upper body over Herc's thighs, his hands coming to rest on the floor. He shivered when Herc pushed Chuck's t-shirt up to expose his lower back, then ran his hand down over that firm, pale arse and Chuck's bare thighs. The sight was to die for, the quivering tension in Chuck's muscles, the vulnerability of the pose. Chuck was squirming, either to get more comfortable or simply to rub his cock against Herc's thigh, and Herc decided he wouldn't have any of that, not just yet.

“Hold still,” he said in a low voice, letting his left hand rest between Chuck's shoulder blades. “The more you squirm, the longer this will take, the more it will hurt.”

Herc didn't give Chuck enough time to reply before he brought his right palm down on Chuck's arse, the loud smack of skin on skin followed immediately by a moan from his boy's lips. He made the next blow harder, and the next harder still, and when all of that only got him more moans he stopped reining in his strength, even as the pale skin turned red under his palm. Chuck made the sweetest noises, gasps and groans and little whimpers, his hips jerking against Herc's thigh with every slap. 

Herc only paused when his palm started hurting, and instead he gently ran his hands over Chuck's hot skin. His boy whimpered again, and Herc could only imagine how sore he had to be already. But Chuck wouldn't be Chuck if he ever gave in easily.

“Are you done already?” he asked, sounding cocky even as his voice broke a little. “Or is your arm just tired and you need a break?”

It was Chuck's way of saying that he could take more, and Herc obliged him gladly. The next slap landed on the back of Chuck's thighs, and that got him a surprised, pained yelp.

“Fuck, dad!” And Herc would have worried that he had actually hurt him, if Chuck wasn't still rutting against his thigh, if Herc couldn't _feel_ the impatience radiating from his son. He grinned.

“Watch your mouth, boy, or I'll shut it for you.” Herc was tempted to do just that, to push Chuck down on his knees and fuck his mouth, but he wasn't going to back away from this until Chuck had taken as much as he could. And his boy was taking it so, so well, thigh muscles twitching under every slap, his firm arse arching up every time Herc paused a little, as if begging for another blow, and if his moans sounded breathless and pained, there was definitely more lust in them. 

Herc's palm was stinging by the time Chuck made a keening little noise and finally tried to squirm away, and Herc had to bite back a groan when Chuck muttered, “please, dad, please.”

“Please what, Chuck?”

“I can't … please …” He whimpered again when Herc kneeded his arse, fingertips digging into sore skin. “Please, daddy, fuck, I need to come … let me ...”

Herc had expected Chuck to beg him to stop spanking him, and he laughed softly when he realised he had underestimated just how much Chuck was enjoying himself here. How far gone he had to be to call him 'daddy', and not with a provocative smirk on his face, but in that broken, needy voice that always went straight to Herc's dick.

“I'm not stopping you,” Herc said, pressed two blunt fingertips against Chuck's arsehole, just to savour that surprised little shiver that went through his body. Herc would never push into him dry, he wasn't a fucking sadist, but there was something in Chuck that seemed to love the threat of it. “You wanna get off, baby, you get off on my thigh. It's the only thing you're going to get after being such a little shit. I'm sure as hell not going to get my hands dirty on your cute little cock tonight.”

He emphasised his words with another hard smack on Chuck's arse, and he wasn't quite sure if his boy's whimper was a reaction to that or to his words. But Chuck didn't complain or object, just wriggled until he got a better angle to rub against Herc's thigh, and if anything the continued slaps on his arse only seemed to make him speed up the pace. It wasn't long before he came all over Herc's thigh, his come soaking through the fabric of Herc's clothes, his body going limp on his father's lap.

Herc's hand stilled immediately, and he simply petted the sore skin while his boy shivered through his orgasm, all broken moans and a soft, mumbled littany of 'daddy, fuck, daaad' spilling from his lips. Herc was uncomfortably hard, more turned on by those whimpers and the sight of Chuck's reddened skin than he had been by actually spanking him. But he'd have to wait, at least long enough for his boy to come to his senses again. 

His hands were gentle as he pulled Chuck up from his lap, holding him up as Chuck swayed on his feet. The boy looked wrecked, flushed, with half-dried tears on his smooth cheeks, his limbs trembling as Herc let him step out of his trousers and made him take off his shirt. And what was better still was that Chuck looked actually embarrassed, like he couldn't believe he had been _that_ much into it.

Herc let Chuck climb into his lap once his son was naked, let Chuck straddle him, but he stopped to kiss him when Chuck tried to bury his face against Herc's shoulder. He kept one hand on Chuck's face, the other on his arse, and his son eagerly leant into every touch. Herc covered Chuck's face with kisses, licked the salt from his skin. He'd have worried about the tears if there had been even a single doubt that Chuck hadn't loved every second of this. But even so he made sure to hold his boy and pet him; he liked playing rough, and their sex was almost more often angry than it was tender, but Herc would never forgive himself if he seriously hurt Chuck, if he did anything his son didn't enjoy. 

“Well, you took that like a good boy,” Herc mumbled against Chuck's lips, felt rather than saw him smile. For all that Chuck was exhausted and boneless, he didn't miss a beat before he replied.

“Want me to take your cock like a good boy?” he all but purred into Herc's ear, and Herc would never get used to his son saying things like that, especially not while rubbing his sore, pretty arse against Herc's crotch. He groaned in frustration.

“Not tonight, Chuckles, you're sore enough as it is,” he sighed, and damn, Chuck really had to be fucked out if he didn't complain about the nickname. Herc loved calling him that, loved the blissful little smile it would bring to Chuck's face when his boy was almost passed out, but at all other times Chuck usually whined about it. This time Chuck simply ignored it.

“But you're all hard for me, dad,” he said, one hand reaching down to grope Herc's dick. “Made you all hard, spanking me. You can't tell me you don't wanna fuck me, don't wanna pound me through the mattress ...”

Truth was, Herc doubted he'd last very long by the time he'd have his boy prepared enough to take him, and he'd much rather take his time fucking Chuck open, as much as his boy's filthy mouth tempted him.

“Don't be so fucking greedy,” he grumbled instead. “Just give me a hand here, a'right?”

Chuck did, untucked Herc quickly and jerked him off with both hands wrapped around Herc's dick, and he was definitely doing it on purpose now when he leant in and kept whispering 'dad' into Herc's ear ( _love your cock, dad, always hits just the right spot when you fuck me, want you to fuck me later, dad, promise me you'll fuck me_ ), and Herc came apart under his hands as easily as Chuck had come on his thigh. It might have embarrassed him if he didn't feel so damn good all over, with Chuck curled up on his lap, those strong hands petting Herc's spent cock idly.

They stayed like that for a while, both far too boneless to move, until Herc flexed his right hand, his palm still sore. Chuck noticed and raised Herc's hand to his lips, kissed the reddened palm lightly.

“Hurts?” 

“Not as much as you arse, kid.”

“Point. Still …” Another kiss to Herc's palm, and Chuck's tongue flicked out against his skin. Herc shivered a little when Chuck's eyes met his. “Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, old man. Maybe you should use a belt next time.”


End file.
